


Tell Me

by TourmalineQueen



Series: Rozenn the Breton [12]
Category: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Domesticity, F/M, Rozenn doesn't know her own lore nearly as well as she thinks she does, Rozenn is probably demisexual, also the hair dye thing was a retcon for differing appearance descriptions in different fics, backstory time, emtional h/c, quiet and fluffy with a smidge of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-09-25 21:50:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20378674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TourmalineQueen/pseuds/TourmalineQueen
Summary: Written for Skyrim KinkmemeOriginal Prompt: DB/Any - First Love/Childhood SweetheartI would like to read stories on your DB's first love. Simple as that.Were they the unforgettable and dearly missed lover they can never find again?Were they just total stuck-up, selfish arseholes who backstabbed, manipulated and outright abused your DB's feelings?Did they break up with your DB for reasons unknown, possibly preventing them from forming strong relationships with others, until they come across them to finally find out their reason of dumping your DB? No matter how tragic and/or absurd.Crack and serious fills are welcomed.





	Tell Me

"So, Breton, who was your first love?" Galmar asked, apropos of nothing.

"Hmm?" Rozenn mumbled drowsily. "First what?"

They were curled up together in their bed in Hjerim, pleasantly sated and sleepy. Or at least Rozenn was. Galmar was wide awake and curious about his woman. He poked her in the side. Rozenn swatted his hand away and rolled over.

"You know I have no secrets from you, Breton. Won't you tell me? Was it some rich merchant in Anvil? You mentioned that you grew up there," he said mock-innocently, wheedling and prodding.

Rozenn grumbled deep in her throat and sat up. "I said no such thing. I told you we left the Imperial City for Anvil. Of course, once Mama realised that two entire centuries of the Legion were defending against the Thalmor onslaught we turned and headed north and eventually settled in Chorrol. A little back-water town that the Dominion showed no interest in possessing. Goodnight."

She lay back down, closed her eyes and seemed to go to sleep.

"And who was he, that you fell for in this... Chorrol, then?" Galmar returned, nuzzling her nape, and fondling her breasts.

"Why are you even curious about this, Galmar?" Rozenn asked, gripping his hands and moving them to her hips.

Galmar paused and leaned back. He ran a hand through his hair and tugged on his beard. "I ... don't really know why. And now you're hesitating, and that's..."

"A red flag to a daedroth?" Rozenn supplied dryly.

"Cheeky wench," Galmar muttered, although Rozenn with her back to him, could hear his amusement.

"Do you truly want to know?" Rozenn asked, rolling in his arms to face him, looking oddly uncertain.

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," Galmar offered."

"Pfft," Rozenn made a rude noise. "Everyone knows your first love - your true love is Ulfric Stormcloak. But no matter, I'll tell you if you wish it."

Galmar chuckled. "True or no, there's few people in Skyrim would dare say that to my face, Breton. You've courage, but no sense. But please, by all means, do tell of your first love."

"I doubt you'll like it," Rozenn said, raising her pointer finger in warning.

"Nevertheless. I would know you better."

"Very well. It wasn't in Chorrol."  
"It wasn't in Chorrol that you met your first love? But... You would have been the right age to fall in love the first time then, surely?" Galmar asked, brow furrowed.

"Not really, as I was less than a decade when we moved there, or do Nords start everything young?" Rozenn teased.

"Well, then, how long did you live in Chorrol for?" Galmar asked irritably, pointedly ignoring the Breton's teasing.

"Hrmm, let me think. Papa took over Northern Goods and Trade shortly after we arrived there. The Argonian lady was tired of the merchant life and sold it for a song; or that's what Papa said. 

I was often underfoot until I made friends with Remus Odiil from a farmstead a little way outside the walls. He was an Imperial, but he was good with trails and whatnot, and we then made friends with a Bosmer girl who taught us all the best techniques for hunting and woodcraft. By the time I began to bleed as a woman, I could rival the Fighter's Guild Master, a venerable Dunmer who taught me to use a sword.

When Mama realised I was a woman - and that I was learning all manner of forbidden things, she and Papa decided to civilise me. I was taken from Chorrol - and my friends - under considerable protest. The excuse for splitting the family up was that they wished to expand their circle of trade, and thus opened a small branch of Northern G&T in Bruma, in what had once been a Nord pub.

I don't know if you know Bruma at all, Galmar?"

"Not well," he replied.

"Well, because Bruma is so close to the border, there is a high population of Nords in Bruma. Even the architecture is very like that in Whiterun. I was like a child in a patisserie," Rozenn added with a sly smile.

"At that age?" Galmar asked dubiously.

"Spoilsport. No, I didn't really discover my... fascination for all things Nord for a few years, but I made some friends among the population, including one young man only a year my senior. Mother, of course, had apoplexy when she found out. An aunt and uncle were summoned to take over the running of the shop and Mama and I headed southwards to Skingrad. There, I was told, I would find suitable company to keep, and hopefully a husband soon after." Rozenn made a face and changed her voice to what Galmar assumed to be an approximation of her Mother's tone. 

"I'm going to get a drink. You want me to bring something back?" Rozenn asked, while Galmar digested all he had been told.

"Food," he replied absently. "'M hungry."  
"I really need to put in a proper kitchen," Rozenn muttered as she handed Galmar bread and cheese, and set some bottles of mead on the bedside locker.

"I'll tell Jorlief," Galmar replied absently, "but you promised to tell of your first love. Was it in Skingrad?"

"Hmm, no," Rozenn answered, sitting into bed and tugging the covers over her. "Skingrad had fared acceptably well in the Great War - perhaps the Dominion feared reprisal from the Count? He was an odd sort," Rozenn rambled thoughtfully.

Galmar cleared his throat slowly.

"Yes, yes, love, I'm getting there. My brother - the one closest in age to me - joined us there, for he was to begin his apprenticeship to the Mages Guild in Skingrad. He being the only person my own age that didn't think us pretentious and off-putting, I followed him like a puppy. Learned some nifty spells from some of the more relaxed Guild members, too. 

When I turned sixteen, mother presented me at the Count's Court in the hopes of wedding me off to some wealthy and/or titled nob. The closest I came was an offer from the Surilie Brothers, who wanted me for my tiny feet and hands. Little Tamika explained that it was to do with the wine-making process, which displeased Mama no end. I was a delicate flower to be cossetted and never have to do a day's work - just like my elder sisters."

Galmar took Rozenn's hand and squeezed gently. She looked at him and smiled gratefully.

"Mama told me that Papa's friends in Anvil had found a man for me just before I turned seventeen. One of the Anvil Court's wealthiest titled men, a baron of some sort, who had outlived three wives already and wanted a fourth, a young, strong wife to nurse him in his old age. They were preparing Benirus Manor for my arrival, and I was to marry the man within the week."

Rozenn shuddered. "Clearly his was the highest offer. Nanny Ro kicked up an almighty fuss when she heard, but she was living outside Leyawiin, and could do nothing to stop it from going ahead. So I stopped it the only way I knew: I ran away."

"You? You ran away from difficulty? I find that hard to believe," Galmar commented, surprised.

"I was seventeen, Galmar: I'm just about twice that, now - and I have the Thu'um now. Back then I had a wooden sword, leather boots, a few out-of-date spells and my wits, such as they were. So I did what I could and ran off to Bruma."

"What about your aunt and uncle?" Galmar asked. "Were they not running the shop there?"

"I cut my hair, dyed it, wore boy's clothes and avoided them. The family - or rather, Nanny Ro - owned a small house in the Nord quarter and I lived there, happily exploring my self and my body with my friend from a few years before," Rozenn continued with a fond smile.

"And you fell in love with him?" Galmar asked, feeling a stab of something unpleasant in his belly.

"When one is seventeen, one believes they are what the sun and moons revolve around: they feel that their love is something new, something nobody else feels - and if they have only just discovered sex, then they can often get sexual release and physical attraction confused with love. I went to a doctor in Bruma to ask how I might go about making babies with a Nord. I was laughed out of the place. Altmer, Dunmer, even Imperials could manage it - but a little Breton girl? Pffft. 

And when I told him this, that I had gone to the doctor to find out about having his babies, he left Bruma. He said goodbye, I'll see you soon, and the next day word was out that he had let his shack and vanished."

Rozenn kept her voice even, but gripped Galmar's hand harder and harder. Galmar was growling deep in his chest by the time she had finished.  
"Filthy coward, he was a shame to his race," Galmar muttered.

Rozenn shrugged philosophically. "I was twenty-two by then, and I had learned from my mistake. I wrote to Nanny Ro and she invited me south to join her for a time in Leyawiin, and so I did. She was the family member most like me - even down to our name. She wasn't the first Rozenn in the family. She told me all kinds of stories - even of her Mama's heartbreak when poor old Great-Grandpa Martin died just before she discovered she was pregnant."

"Your Great-Grandmother would have lived during the Oblivion Crisis, then?" Galmar asked.

Rozenn nodded. "Since her day there's always been a Rozenn and a Martin child named in the family."

"That's a nice tradition," Galmar said idly.

Rozenn nodded. "There were a lot of Martin-babies in the aftermath of the Crisis. But the name is less popular nowadays, although in our family traditions are made to last. Anyway, after Nanny Ro passed away I headed North again, to reconcile with my family. That... Did not go s well as I had planned, and so I left Cyrodiil for good. Unfortunately, stopping to ask the Legion for directions while in Skyrim proved an unwise decision. And you know the rest."

Galmar kissed her forehead. "Thank you for telling me."

"You're the first who has been remotely interested," she countered. "I hope I haven't bored you."

"You? You could never bore me, Breton. Allow me to demonstrate," Galmar grinned, pulling her on top of him and kissing her deeply.


End file.
